


The Ghost Woman & the Hunter

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Hell, Angry Jo Harvelle, Angst, Angst Bela Talbot, Angst Jo Harvelle, Beer, F/F, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Letter, Nickname, Obsessive Bela Talbot, Romance, Ruby 1.0 - Freeform, Traumatized Bela Talbot, lacuna coil - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo's crossed paths with that good for nothing thief more than once, and she's determined not to make the same mistake when she just so happens to find her way into the Roadhouse, probably wanting more than just a beer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost Woman & the Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Set S2 cause Jo is still working at the Roadhouse & S3 towards the end.   
> This was written for the prompt Bela/Jo ~ Beer, over at Code Monkeys at LJ. I miss the roadhouse so very much, especially Jo, and I've always wanted Bela to just make her way there somehow. Title is from the Lacuna Coil song of the same name.

The lonesome night the glamorous yet all too familiar figure saunters into her bar, is the night that she really wishes she had taken the night off. 

Jo looks up immediately from her tedious work of cleaning up the rest of the glasses, given that she’s the only one down here and the last person left about twenty minutes back, and shudders when all she wants to do is roll her eyes and walk away. 

She turns around and closes her eyes for a moment before breathing out deeply, brushing some flyaway hair off her face and turning back around to watch her only come closer.

Her mind is telling her to be strong, to not let her intimidate her like she always does, lead her down into temptation and sin with her mother lingering upstairs. As much as she wants to run, Jo knows this isn’t an option for her. She has never run away from Bela, will refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing she disturbs her deeply, still even in her dreams. 

It’s been two very short months since she’s last seen her. And they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. 

Bela, after agonizingly long seconds, slips onto the bar seat directly across from the bartender, merely inches away and Jo reminds herself not for the first time to merely breathe in and out and act natural. 

More easily said than done. 

Her hazel eyes flicker up to her own and she very nearly loses it, drops the glass she’s been cleaning ever since her arrival. Luckily though, so she doesn’t attract her mother’s attention, she is able with her slightly shaky hand to dispose of it on the counter before resting her fidgeting hands behind her back and waiting, hoping Bela hasn’t noticed she’s so shaken up by her mere presence. 

Bela notices everything though, and she smiles with that mesmerizing smile that only she possesses. 

Jo swallows, hard. 

“I’ll take the best brew you’ve got. Perhaps a pumpkin ale.”

Now this is weird because Bela doesn’t drink beer, it’s only wine or nothing. That’s something that’s always unnerved Jo, how she always has to put her tastes so annoyingly high and expect Jo to just drop her own standards and accept hers. 

Selfish bitch. 

“You’re a thief. What makes you think I’ll give you a glass of anything?”

A thief that stole her very heart specifically. 

Bela looks shocked that this mere bartender is able to hold her own, leading Jo to smile smugly and making sure she sees it. Bela doesn’t have the same effect on her as men do, she’s infinitely worse, though that doesn’t mean that she’ll fall for the thief’s whims every single time. 

That mistake has been made far too often. 

“Maybe because it’s restaurant policy.”

Jo glares at her, her face darkening at the way Bela looks so comfortable right where she’s at, like she’s supposed to belong here or something, at this bar, on her stool. She looks so perfect and natural here and Jo hates her for it. 

 

“I don’t think so.”

Bela sighs and leans further across the bar, “Fine, just don’t give me the cold shoulder, honey.”

“Don’t call me that," Jo growls. “And I’ll do whatever the hell I please. It’s my bar.”

“Don’t deny it, Jo. You’ve missed me.”

Jo scoffs, “Not a chance.”

She gulps though because it couldn’t be truer. Bela has always been her escape from this dreaded place, from her mother and a life she doesn’t want, has never wanted. The woman may have unsavory ways and means, but she’s practically the closest, maybe even only way to start hunting and living a life her father would have been proud of. 

Bela always gives her choices, always understands her and loves her. And that’s the deepest reason why the bartender is drawn to her mysterious figure every single time.  
“I can read you”, Bela whispers darkly, chuckling under her breath as she manages to reach the other human’s neck, stroking it gently in a way that says she’s claiming it… her. 

She’s claiming her. 

Jo doesn’t even try to pull away, the sensation of Bela so close sweetly everlasting.

“There has to be rules," she swallows thickly, “you can’t leave again.”

“And oh…,” Bela breathes, “…how could I ever?”

The bartender leans closer and is the first to lay her lips on Bela’s, the kiss starting off achingly slow and warm and soon leading into something deeper, rimmed with meaning and a notion between the both of them to make up for lost time. 

Bela climbs up on the bar counter and amidst heated kisses, lets Jo to help her crawl down, making their way slowly towards the back so they won’t be interrupted. 

They need this. 

 

Quite some time later, Jo opens her mailbox and finds a letter which her fingers skim across for several moments as her brain stirs to life wondering who it’s from. She smells the envelope and it smells like her… Bela. 

In her modestly sized house in her homey little kitchen, she rips it open and frantically reads the elegant cursive writing which has to be Bela’s, with her standards and all.   
Her eyes fall upon the last words and such hope lands in her heart, her soul that she almost bursts with it. 

Meet me…

Her eyes tear up as she tucks the letter safely inside her purse and heads back to the Roadhouse. She hasn’t worked there for quite a while, not since her mother died, but she’s so anxious to see Bela again, to rekindle her romance that she can’t help but brush trauma aside for just this once.

By the time she makes it, it’s around 9:30 and Bela is already there waiting for her beside the counter, standing facing the door and looking like a wreck, nervously biting her fingernails, her hair thrown about her head and face at every angle, the thunder and lightning making her features harsh and eyes dark, black even in a way that makes Jo want to run, scream in terror and never lay eyes on her again. 

This isn’t Bela, this can’t possibly be Bela. 

“Hi, Jo," her voice is so cracked up and hoarse beyond belief that Jo can suddenly feel herself crying, on the verge of begging her to go away because this is just too painful to see. 

See what her lover has been resorted to. 

Bela winks at her a little and suddenly Jo wants her, thrown up on the counter so she can make her fulfill all her dreams of finding another out, away from this miserable, lonely life that shouldn’t be hers. 

This is Bela, a torn and broken shell but her on and off girlfriend nonetheless and suddenly the scream of horror dies in her throat. Suddenly, all the love in the world is back within Jo and she knows who she’ll give it to. 

The tears come on full force, streaming from her eyes relentlessly as her feet move and her body crashes into Bela’s, nearly sending them both to the ground but Bela is still strong, still alive, still nearly as perfect as she once was. 

Jo’s tears fall into Bela’s matted hair for endless minutes, not one of them can think to say anything, a silence echoed by the dying thunder outside being exactly what they need. Just to be in each other’s arms again, safe and sound and warm. 

“Can I have that beer now?”

The bartender smiles and cracks open the pumpkin ale.

**FIN**


End file.
